


Quest Bed

by Wandering_Moose



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Death, Fan SGRUB Session, We Are In Need Of A Quest Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 12:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5249069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wandering_Moose/pseuds/Wandering_Moose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Careful, you stay angry like that and your heart might explode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quest Bed

Bolsav was angry. In fact, he was more than angry. He was _fucking pissed._

His heart was pounding out of his chest. He could hear nothing but his own heartbeat and breathing. He could see veins in his hands rising out of the skin, and he knew that some of his facial veins were more than likely standing out as well. His skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he could feel his clothing getting wet from his profuse sweating.

That _motherfucker._

He was going to kill him. The minute he saw that piece of shit he was going to _pound_ his body into _mush_ and feed him to the goddamn worms in the dirt. He would smash his ribs, puncture his lungs, _rip_ his tendons like little rubber bands...

He hit Orphis. _Nobody_ hits Orphis.

He would grind his bones to paste and feed his lusus the fucking paste. Better yet, he could take his body to a friend and have him mounted like a slain trophy deer or fish. He could mount him to serve as a reminder to strangers, to friend and foe alike, that _you do not hit anyone Bolsav cares about._ As far as anyone should be concerned, you do not even just _touch_ anyone Bolsav cares about without their express consent. Do anything without consent, and fucking die.

Bolsav stood up straight, angrily fuming as sweat dripped down his face like water dripping down a window in a rainstorm. His hands were shaking, his limbs were jittering. He would have reached out for someone to help him calm down, but he was afraid that his hand would engulf and crush his companion's hand. And he couldn't hurt someone he loved, that would make him feel like even more of a monster.

Not to say that he didn't already think that about himself, of course.

God, he was sweating like a whore in church. Absolute buckets of sweat were pouring off of him, he felt like he was in the midst of a rainstorm and he had no umbrella. His heartbeat was so loud in his ears, all he could hear was the telltale thump thump of the one organ pumping blood throughout his body. It was beating so loudly and so quickly it could have been mistaken for the sound of a machine gun rattling off fire in the midst of a battlefield.

He felt so tense, like a coiled spring ready for release. He looked over and made eye contact with Orphis, then Thurba, and then _him_. That _fucker._

Then he heard it.

A monstrous popping noise, like thunder cracking in the middle of a silent night.

A steady, yet thin dribble of violet blood dripped out of his mouth as he wretched in midair. He fell forward onto the slightly damp grass, his eyes empty and lifeless.

He was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Bolsav's canon death if there ever was a SGRUB session with a large number of fantrolls belonging to both me and a friend.


End file.
